born into this mad world
by 1oooyears
Summary: "No, Lydia, you see dead people, big deal," he pauses, slumps in his chair, and admires the night sky, "I don't know if you know this, but during the full moon, I turn into a werewolf, if anyone is crazy, it's me." - One night, Derek watches as Lydia Martin drinks herself into a stupor.


.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

born _into __**this **_mad_ world _

.

**fandom: **teen wolf

**summary: **_"To being the towns weirdoes!" / One night, Derek Hale learns that Lydia Martin is a rather interesting drunk._

**note 1: **look, i just wanted to imagine a world where Lydia was a little worse-off and there was no Jackson, to say _I love you, _and this happened, so yeah. In this it's like, after everything and oh, yeah, Derek is no longer _badbadbad_ criminal, hooray.)

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Are you okay?" She swallows, the emotion thick on her tongue; turning, she acknowledges the presence of the werewolf beside her.

She puts on a smiles, "of course, now go! Run off, go be papa wolf!" She almost snorts, remind her to _nevereverever_ get drunk again because she's starting to see flashing lights. Derek seemingly sensing her loss of inhibitions, pauses and she vaguely wonders if he can smell the alcohol on her breath. With an empty smile, Lydia moves to the lawn chair and kicks her feet up. Glancing at Lydia, Derek thinks, _yep, this is girl _**_not _**_okay._

She dizzily smiles at him, "if you're not going to leave, why don't you pull up a chair, _mr. werewolf." _

Rolling his eyes, he nods, moving his hand to the back of a chair before, sitting. He looks at her thickly made up eyes, and the unrealistic shade of her lips and wonders why she's tried so hard.

"So, Miss. Martin, how has your summer been so far? Seen any dead people lately?"

She turns to look at him, eyes glinting in a way he truly doesn't like, because in that second, with her bright hair sitting on her head and her eyes so black, and her lips so chapped, she looks very _very _old, and too _too too too, _jaded. The ends of her lips turn upwards and Derek realises the very sad looking girl is _smiling_.

"Why yes, the other day I greeted Mrs. Tan, she was trying to water the plants, but her attempts were," she pauses, eyes moving upwards as she looks for the correct term, "rather fruitless." She giggles, holding her hand to her mouth as a hiccup tumbles out afterwards.

She turns back to the stars, and puts the red cup down, lifting her fingers, like a child trying to reach the moon. Another hiccup. "I am," pause, hiccup, "druuunnnnk." She drawls.

Derek, a responsible adult, puzzles over the situation, confused by Lydia's emotions and pessimistic smiles because as much as she is most definitely smiling, her eyes are droopy and remind him much too much of himself. "That, I can see." He looks her up and down.

"Hey Derek," she turns, looking up through her lashes.

"Yeah."

"Am I stupid?" She bites her lip, holding a hiccup, he assumes.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, his gaze returning to the stars, "no, Lydia, as Stiles has informed me, you are very intelligent."

She shakes her head quickly afterwards, and her vision starts to blur, "then, am I crazy?"

He looks back at the strawberry blonde. "No, Lydia, you see dead people, big deal," he pauses, slumps in his chair, and admires the night sky, "I don't know if you know this but during the full moon, I turn into a _werewolf, _if anyone is crazy, it's _me."_

Lydia nods, and lifts her cup, Derek listens to the liquid gush down her throat, _werewolf hearing and all._

"You know what I realise now, Derek?" He pauses, wondering if he should listen to the words of a female drunk. He shrugs, and nods. She hesitates, and swallows, a hiccup caught in her throat. "You killed your sister," he shoots her a dark look, and she raises her hands. "The town thinks you killed your sister, and your family, right?" He nods, thick regrets dancing on his tongue, "and almost everyone thinks I'm either psychic or psychotic, right?" He nods, _give or take. _She smiles, and grins, eyes wide and crazy, "sooooo, we're the town nut jobs!"

She bursts into a gather of giggles, fingers twirling in her hair, she stops before nudging him, lifting her glass in the air and gesturing for him to do the same, he does. She _clinks _her cup to his, red against red, speaking before guzzling the glass in a heavy gulp; "To being the towns weirdoes!"

He doesn't really condone underage drinking but as he watches her sad eyes, and droopy face, he decides he'll humor the drunk human.

(That night he takes her home, and the day after that they may or may not start rumors by his dropping her off at school, and she kissing his cheek, because, _they are the town crazies.)_

.

.

.

_(and Stiles has begun planning Dereks demise.)_

.

.

.

.

.


End file.
